Disclaimer: I don’t normally share this kind of stuff, but after blogging about so much of my pregnancy, I figured I owed all you future mommas an honest post about the aftermath…
I’ll be the first to admit, I was curious when I got home from the hospital. I knew I would be at least seven pounds lighter, but decided in the end not to torture myself with numbers. I put the scale away when I was eight months pregnant, and hadn’t touched it since. I was weighed at every doctor’s appointment, where I reluctantly squinted at the number with one eye open and one eye closed.
Truthfully, I was a bit shocked at how quickly the weight fell off once I got home. I expected to look big and swollen for a few weeks but by 10 days post partum, I was feeling pretty confident. Not miniskirt confident, but confident enough to leave the house wearing my awesome belly binder under a cute tank top. That being said, I did step on the scale after four weeks (not a day sooner!), and was pleasantly surprised. Also worth noting: I have not exercised in the slightest aside from short walks around our neighborhood, and I am certainly not dieting (breastfeeding still counts as eating for two, right?).
I still have some pounds to lose, my shorts are too tight, and I’d be lying if I said I haven’t had a few nervous breakdowns on the floor of my closet during the past few weeks. But all in all, I’m happier with my post-baby body than I thought I would be. I’ve got a legit battle scar and a few stretch marks, but I now wear those with pride. I’m ashamed to admit that prior to getting pregnant, I rarely gave my body the respect it deserved. I often stared at it in the mirror thinking about all the things I would change if I could. Even while I was pregnant, there were days when I truly struggled to see the beauty in my new, rounder shape.
I’m still looking a bit round(er), but there’s also a whole new appreciation that accompanies this current physique. My body grew and sustained A LIFE. Isn’t that amazing?! It is no doubt, one of God’s everyday miracles.
I’m sure I’ll lose the weight soon and eventually fit into my shorts, especially once I start exercising again and stop eating cookie dough ice cream every night. In the meantime, I’ll be staring at this little miracle named Everett and not worrying too much about it, and I’d encourage all of you new mommas and future mommas to do the same.
